At seventy miles an hour, your absence overtakes the landscape of burnished silos, townships, and cheap diesel, the horizon of heat lightening, dirty Ohio
That’s just where I’ve decided you are. All I know is you’re waiting in an airport as I am, between Arkansas and the Grand
for Nohemi Friends: I apologize for addressing you all at once like this, and for not calling or writing a letter. Remember, talking: that’s